


It's Not That Bad

by TheDarkFlygon



Series: Fever February [13]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Established Crush, F/M, Fever, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Light Angst, Prompt Fill, Sickfic, Touch-Starved, Tumblr Prompt, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 22:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13797381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: [FEVER FEBRUARY - DAY 13: I DON'T WANT TO BE LONELY]Makoto doesn't like to be alone. Too bad he's ill, bedridden during school days, because that means nobody can visit him when he needs a hug the most. Or is it? All he's sure of, is that he misses his sister's peppiness.





	It's Not That Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fever February!  
> https://mugenthesickfic.tumblr.com/post/170469673461/introducing-fever-february
> 
> I recently installed my Steam copy of Trigger Happy Havoc on my new laptop, and man I missed these dorks so much. I still get all the Naegiri feels anytime I play through my favourite part of DR1.  
> As a tribute to Febris-Induced Case, which was started almost a year ago now, I decided to dust out my DR1 fanfic skills. Last time I wrote Naegiri was a Sugarvine sickfic with Kyoko as my whumpee...
> 
> Next fic for FevFeb is on "Feverish Confessions".  
> When I was coming up with the prompts, it was clear to me that I was going to write some PDV Flo whump, but now? Hmmm...  
> Once again, I'm left hesitating between DR (y'all know it's either gonna be Hajime or Shuichi as soon as I say that) and IDOLiSH7. Let's say this week's episode woke up some familiar tropes inside me.
> 
> also fite me I7 is good

“Well…” Sayaka’s voice trails off. “See you later… Please take care, Makoto! I hope you’ll feel better soon!”

The idol seems saddened to leave the room, dulled blue eyes, hesitant gestures. Some say she isn’t trustworthy, but he knows better than this. He knows she means well for him. But she has class and idol practice and concerts. Mostly idol stuff. He loves her idol stuff, so he doesn’t say much when she eventually leaves.

“Have a nice day…”

 

There he is, all alone in a rather dark room again. The curtains of the windows are closed, the room’s light is off. All he has is what makes it through the blue fabric. As to why, it’s obvious: he has a splitting headache which throbs at the same rhythm as his heart. Which beats too quickly, according to the nurse.

Having bad luck comes with being sick, Makoto was sure of that. He was born for two things: being unluckily lucky and coming down with whatever was roaming around. At least, he was lucky enough for Hope’s Peak to have a military-like stock of medicine. Their governmental funds showed there. He rolls inside the sheets before he can overthink it.

 

Okay, so, it may be time to make a small recap, while he’s at it.

It all started yesterday, when he woke up feeling a bit numb. Nothing much: he had watched the latest series pretty late in the evening, per rule of “just one more episode”. It was fatigue, right? Yeah. Winter fatigue, because of the cold and dry air. Nothing much, so he went to class. And that’s where everything went downhill.

It all started with a stuffed nose. Oh, well, a cold. It happens to everybody, right? Right.  
Then it was a cough, in Maths. His throat hurt more and more. Maybe he was a bit sicker than he thought. Nothing too bad, so he went to the cafeteria. That’s where Sayaka got worried and Kyoko suspected something. Actually, she had it figured out before him, but he denied her theories and went back to class.  
Then it was a constant dizziness. A feeling he was going to fall asleep as soon as his eyes diverged from anything not the class. Class he could barely follow up with. Too fast, too complicated. Sayaka asked to bring him to the nurse. He refused. The teacher accepted. Too bad, right? Right.

And so here he was, in bed. He’s been so for the last two days. He doesn’t like staying in bed that much, when he thinks about it…

 

Makoto… doesn’t like to be alone. He’s always had someone by his side, as far as he can recall. His parents, who’ve always been supportive of him. His sister, whom he doesn’t remember living without.

His friends, from kindergarten until now. Sayaka, Chihiro, all the class, the third-years and the first-years… He more or less considers everyone his friend.

He has a special spot for Kyoko, though. He wouldn’t be exactly able to say why. He’s been friends with her for less long than Sayaka, but there’s this something with her… It’s probably not time to think about it: the headache. He has to keep the headache in mind. So he tries to switch to another topic. Harder than it sounds.

 

Makoto… doesn’t like to be alone. He’s not used to it. He’s just never really alone usually. Even when he was sick back at home, his mother would usually stay with him, then it would be Komaru. But he’s all alone, in the dorms of Hope’s Peak, because everyone has other stuff to attend to: classes, personal activities, talent development… So many things he, of course, can’t do when he’s bedridden.

Another cough rattles his chest. It hurts. His head throbs even harder against his temples. He’s already taken his medicine for the morning. And he has nobody to talk to, just so he can forget a bit about the constant chills running down his lead body.

 

He hates being lonely like that. He knows everyone is out there, talking, chatting, doing stuff together, having fun, laughing… And there he is, in bed, rolling in a desperate attempt to feel warm then to cool himself. It’s horrible how awful it is. It struck him like a truck, now he can’t get rid of all the symptoms.

That’s the kind of moments where he wishes he didn’t have such a vivid imagination and subconscious. Anytime he closes his eyes and dozes off, he hears weird voices and intelligible words, if these bizarre noises even are words. He sees black, white, red and smudges of other colours here and there. Bright pink. Sparkles, sprinkles, glitter… He can’t make any sense out of those, but he knows something: every time he wakes up from one of those, his head hurts and he feels sad.

 

But hey, things are to be put in perspective. It could be worse. He could have a chronic illness. He could have pneumonia. He could be in the hospital (they’ve seen him a lot, since his bad luck has led him to broken bones more than once before). Yet he’s not: he’s in a place where he knows it’s safe, without it being cold and unnecessarily white as a hospital, his friends can visit him easily… It’s not that bad, really. He’s lived through worse…

But he wasn’t alone, when he was at the hospital. Komaru would skip classes to visit him (he always kept it hidden from their parents), his friends would pay him a visit after classes because the hospital wasn’t so far away from the school, his parents would check up on him, and usually he could chat with the passing-by nurses, cleaning agents and doctors. They were all, in a way, his friends too.

But at Hope’s Peak, the nurse barely had time to check up on everyone she had to. His friends had a much busier life, and neither his sister nor his friends from middle school could visit him in the dorms. So, most of the time like right now, he’s all alone, in his room, struggling to keep up with all the symptoms thrown at his face.

 

Time was very slow, when he was alone in his room sunken in the darkness. It felt both friendly, because it was his room and his bed, but incredibly lonely too. He rolls on his bed again. His eyes are now inside the pillow, instead of looking at the ceiling. He has to get his face out of it as soon as he has to cough, though.

He… doesn’t like to be alone. He hates it. He hates solitude. While he’s aware people sometimes use him at their advantage, trick him into doing what they can’t be bothered to, it’s okay. It’s okay because, if it makes someone happy, it’s good. So it’s okay. He knows some people are genuinely nice to him, and they care for him, so it makes it okay.

 

The exhaustion, the illness, the headache and the solitude win over him. He feels himself tear up. He doesn’t want to whimper like a baby, but it’s still coming out of his eyes and mouth. And now he’s crying. He doesn’t want to cry… But he’s crying. All he wants to do is either feel better and go see everyone in class or hug his sister. He misses her smiles and jokes, right now.

He grabs his cell phone, but it’s ran out of battery ages ago. He can’t even text her to ask her for a small joke to relieve the weight of loneliness from his mind. It’s just the fever making his nerves weaker. Nothing bad. Nothing he can’t help by himself…

Right?

 

Right…

 

He’s all alone, right? He’s all alone until at least noon, and he has no way to possibly join the cafeteria to see everyone. He feels too bad for that, and Sayaka would probably drag him back to bed with the help of half the class. He doesn’t want Mondo to scream at him for being stupid.

And, of course, he doesn’t want Kyoko to find him unconscious on the floor again. Once was enough. He promised not to do that anymore to her too, so… He’s just stuck here.

 

Crying helps him pass out into a dreamless sleep. The lack of flashy colours is soothing, upon coming to, after some time he has zero way to measure, and zero estimation of either. He can’t even look at a clock to have an idea.

His eyes take some time to show him what’s around his bed, but he does distinguish something. Lavender over browns and whites. All familiar. A pleasant smell. A comforting feeling over all right next to him… He finally opens his eyes fully.

 

“Kyoko…?” he rasps out before coughing.

She looks at him, with her seemingly default expression, before he sees her eyebrows are frowned. He can still distinguish it despite the weak lighting of the room.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Huh… Not so good, and lonely… That’s what happens when you’re sick…”

 

He feels a cold palm against his forehead, leans into it. He wants this hand to remain there forever now. Wait. He doesn’t feel any fabric over it. It must mean her hands aren’t wearing the gloves. He still lets himself go into her touch.

“That’s what I thought, your fever has barely gone down since this morning,” Kyoko whispered to herself, as she dipped the cloth in the back and put on his forehead.

It felt nice too, but not as nice as her hands.

 

“Thanks a lot,” Makoto tells her in the clearest voice he can manage, “Kyoko…”

She looks away. “You’re welcome.”

The boy smiles at her. He wishes he had more energy to express how much he’s grateful for her. As he smiles, his sorrow comes back, because he knows she’s about to leave as soon as she makes sure he’s alright.

He doesn’t say anything, cut by coughing anyway, as the detective gives him a few spoons and pills and glasses of some medicines. He hopes at least one of them does something against his raging fever, because it’s the worst.

 

“I’m sorry,” Kyoko told him in a faint voice, “I have to go to class now. I’m going to check up on you after today’s case.”

She gets up from the bed, relieving the mattress but invading his heart with that painful loneliness again. He doesn’t want to see her go, even if she has important business to attend. It’s like his usual will to make everyone happy even if it doesn’t do so for him is gone.

“Wait…”

 

His hand is firmly locked onto her wrist. Kyoko glances back at him, both surprised and upset.

“What is it, Makoto?”

“I… Stay with me, please… I don’t wanna be lonely again…”

Her boots had definitely stopped their course.

“Lonely?”

 

The girl kneeled down to his level, facing him directly, even as his face was sinking into his covers again. She showed some slight surprise.

“You cried, right?”

Ashamed, he simply nodded back in confirmation. A slight smile appears on her lips.

“Then I suppose someone needs to stay with you and watch over in case it grows worse.”

 

Kyoko gently pulls away from his weak clutch, walks in the room, grabs something and puts a chair right next to the bed. He can only smile at her for this. She sits next to him.

“Is this what you want?”

“You shouldn’t put up with my needy whining, Kyoko… You have investigations to lead…”

 

He can almost hear her giggle to herself.

“If I didn’t want to do this, I would have left already.”

 


End file.
